Fenrick Brother of the Wolf

Here is a copy of a poem written in Fenrick's honour.

The Clinton War

Twas aeons ago in the heat of the sun Vikings made a pact, their swords bound as one A band of brothers. Fierce as boars by Ramsguard hired Their drinking horns full, their souls brightly fired Loyal to each other. Besieging the castle with show of force Pikes aplenty, axes, and worse In chivalric honour.

From lower ground they struggled to climb Assaulting together through sweat and grime Ne’er torn asunder. Now the Vikings with pikes drew their line in the sand And the Barony of Lionsgate returned shots to a man The crash of thunder. With a 12 foot pike Fenrick stood his ground With the pikes from the foe a-smashing down. The heart of a lion.

An arm he lost; then a leg gone too But Fen’s strength of will came shining through Wounded and tired. Our valiant Viking, not giving up easy, Proceeded to charge though a little bit wheezy, A warrior admired. With Fenrick’s soul the sun’s strength grew Alerted the gods, their attention drew Favoured son.

With dauntless heart and a one-legged hop Fen bounced for the wall but had to stop. Valhalla beckoning. Dagger in good hand, balanced on one leg Lord Fenrick that morning had drunk his last keg Time for reckoning. Fen never made it to the castle that day For the pikers of Lionsgate wanted their say The love of the battle.

They spotted our hero in his plucky stance A pike to his helm bounced off at a glance Tragic the loss. Good limbs and bad tumbled and fell He took his last breath ‘fore the pathway to hel Losing the dross. But his death was no boon for the Lionsgate horde For the lost Vikings found their forgotten swords A rallying cry.

“They killed our freak!” Hjalti did roar “A Viking unequalled in days of yore!” Our freak of a brother. Shaking with rage, he grabbed Fen’s good leg With Werner’s help this once-thrall did dreg. Like no other. “They killed our freak! Our one legged one armed brother!” “Kill them all!” Werner screamed, “Those fatherless mothers!” Clubs a-ready.

All Midgard shook as Valhalla did open Yggdrasil’s roots the depths sought a-gropin’ Dragons took flight. The Aesir were wakened; Thor glanced at the field The power of his hammer gave Bjorn Rib Cracker to wield. Showers of might. He ran at the wall, 30 feet high And with god-like courage leapt into the sky Raging with valour.

Alas, Bjorn’s armour did fail And he crashed to the ground rather than sailed Locked at the knee But that rallying cry still echoed around Inspired by his lead, Vikings leapt from the ground Wild and free. “It’s raining Vikings,” a panicked cry from the foe Then all sound was lost with the answering blow Slicing and dicing.

The Valkyrie hovered in beauteous flight Awaiting the souls they would carry that night Their winged helms gleamed. Chopping and hacking the castle defenders The Lost Vikings and Clan Carn were no pretenders Ramsguard beamed. The castle they took with little resistance Fen’s sacrifice paid with their persistence Debt of honour.

Var, the true one, looked down and smiled She had heard their vows all the while Goddess of truth. So Var spoke to Eir, the goddess of healing And Eir petitioned Frigg to Odin so appealing

Great beauty forsooth.

Thus Odin with a sigh cheated the valkyries Gave Fen back his limbs, his head, and his fury But kept his smile.

by Mercilla